


tides will bring me back to you

by supremedannie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Mention of blood, Nail Biting, University, cleaning up a small injury, dan is sad, idk how to tag this is my first ao3 post, light self-harm/nervous habit mention, phil makes it better, soft and wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremedannie/pseuds/supremedannie
Summary: dan has an upsetting day at university, but he can always rely on phil to be there for him.p.s. i was inspired to write this fic by this phanart  [https://twitter.com/crzyfast/status/1162498728382484480?s=21] drawn by @gryphll on twitter ^__^





	tides will bring me back to you

8:04 pm.  
The neon red numbers on Dan’s alarm clock gave off an eerie glow in his tiny dorm room. Dan sat atop his stilted bed, head in his hands, hiding away in the dark cave of a room that belonged to him. He absentmindedly bit the light blue nail polish off his fingernails, letting it fall onto the bed covers in little chipped pieces. Glancing over at the alarm clock, the dim light guided his eyes onto his desk, where a textbook and notebook sat. Basics of Law, Seventh Edition. He had two chapters to read and an analysis to write, but he had already tried. His racing mind would read the same lifeless, mundane sentences over and over and over again without comprehending a single word. He even used the highlighter they gave him for free at orientation.

Dan’s face went sour after tasting something metallic; he pulled his hand away from his mouth and noticed that the skin around his nail was bleeding. Several of his fingers were bitten, rough, and cut from his bad chewing habit. He cursed himself in his head, wiping his hand off on his black jogger sweatpants. He had painted them not only to try and stop biting, but because it made him feel nice. He felt a little rush of confidence from breaking a gender role he had conformed to his entire life, having always wanted to paint his nails. He stared down at his soggy fingers, the shiny polish chipped and cracked. Dan held back the warm feeling of tears behind his eyes as he thought about how pretty they had been just hours before.

_Make some friends,_ everyone told him. _You won’t enjoy university if you are all alone. Join a club, attend a study group, _ his mum told him weekly over the phone. Having realized none of his roommates were all that similar to him, Dan quickly became lonely in his first year at uni. They would go out to bar hop and he stayed uninvited. They brought girls over to the dorm, drunk and loud and clumsy. None of them studied law like Dan did, and none of them offered to group study, ever. At the end of his class each Tuesday and Thursday, the Law Basics I professor would remind everyone of study club. Friday nights, 6:30 pm, lecture hall B, room 102. After weeks of ignoring his message and flunking the assignments and being alone, Dan decided to whip up all the courage he could possibly drag out of himself and go to study club. _ It won’t be that bad. Everyone is a struggling freshman, just like you. Everyone is just there to make a good grade then go home._ So on Friday night, at 6:29 pm, Dan had walked into lecture hall B room 102 with a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder and an earbud hanging from his hoodie collar. His nails were painted light blue. He’d sat down at one of the round tables in the hall, joining a group of slightly dorky but possibly cool guys about his age. They were huddled over a textbook, highlighting sentences and making notes on their papers. 

They discussed the vocabulary words and what the difference is between a criminal and civil case. Dan, knowing the answer to a homework question, pointed out the answer in the text. The boys looked where he pointed, staring at the answer, but also at his shiny, light blue fingernail. One boy scoffed quietly, Dan swore of it. He retracted his hand and pulled his sleeve down over it, instantly on guard. Two guys excused themselves, smirking subtly, and walked over to another, more crowded table of girls. They exchanged hushed conversation and one girl turned to look at Dan. He stared back. The table let out stifled laughter. _ They’re making fun of me. I know they looked at my stupid nail polish and I know they think it’s stupid, and it is. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is, because I’m making it one, and I’m overreacting but I don’t know what else to do. _ When no one was paying attention, Dan packed his book bag, put the earbud back in his ear and hurried out of the hall. 

Walk-jogging back to his dormitory, Dan sniffled against the cold air and blamed the weather for the hot tears stinging the corners of his eyes. His long fringe bangs blew all across his forehead as he swung open the front door and rushed to his room, hoping no roommates were present. He felt his cheeks growing redder by the second, a hot blush creeping up from the bottom of his jaw to his cheekbone. He didn’t even notice that he had started crying a little until he felt a hot water droplet on his hand. _ So stupid. _ He knew it didn’t seem like a big deal, but in that moment- when people looked back at him and laughed, because of a way he had expressed himself- he felt all the same feelings as he had in high school, in elementary school, his whole life. Being himself was wrong, and people didn’t like it, and God, they were going to make sure he knew that. 

Now, at 8:04 pm, he was sat atop his bed, salty tear stains dried across his cheeks, fingernails chipped and bleeding. He knew he couldn’t be alone- he shouldn’t be, not with these feelings. Flashbacks to the horrors he endured all throughout school made his mind become a dangerous place for him to stay, and he had learned over the past year or so that when it started happening, he needed to be with someone else. Phil. 

Dan and Phil had only met in person three, maybe four times, but their Skype conversations were never ending, and their text thread had no definite goodbyes. Phil was a constant source of support for Dan, and he was the best friend-almost-boyfriend-therapist anyone could ask for. Dan leaned across the bed, pulling his laptop towards him and pushing it open. He opened the Skype tab, and pulled up Phil’s profile. 

** AmazingPhil: Offline **

_Oh well. _ He clicked the call button and waited, to no avail. After three long dialings and no answer, he closed the laptop back and pulled his phone from his hoodie pocket to look at their conversation from earlier. 

** phil ♡ (6:46 pm) **  
good luck at study group, let me know when you’re done :)

** Dan (6:48 pm)**  
thanks, will do :))

No new messages. He sighed, praying to whatever was in the sky that Phil wasn’t asleep or abducted or something. _ I need you._

**Dan (8:15 pm)**  
hey  
study group was a flop -.-  
are you busy

**Dan (8:33 pm)**  
phiiiiiiiiiiil dont tell me ur sleeping before 9pm

**Dan (9:01 pm)**  
.. i miss you

_I can’t be alone._  
Dan tossed his phone aside after waiting for what felt like hours, and looked around his room, eyes glazed over. He stopped when he saw his laundry hamper, filled about halfway up with dirty clothes and towels. The laundromat at Dan’s uni hall was… complicated. He knew the bare minimum about laundry operations, and the massive industrial machines they had there were expensive and literally unusable to Dan. On Skype with Phil one night, after complaining about the laundry situation, Phil had suggested to him that Dan come over to his place every so often to do free laundry. And maybe go on a little date. That next day, Dan had shown up to Phil’s door with three garbage bags full of laundry and a duffel bag packed in case of a spur of the moment sleepover. He washed his clothes, spent the night, and Phil gave him the door code to the apartment. 

Dan pushed himself off the bed, grabbing a garbage bag out of the closet and filling it with his dirty clothes. If Phil wasn’t home for whatever reason, this would at least give Dan a valid reason to go to Phil’s without being weird, sat alone in his empty apartment. He hurriedly tossed some clothes and a toothbrush into his duffel bag, tied up the garbage bag, and stumbled out the door. He could have sworn a roommate asked something like “Where you headed, mate?” on his way out, but Dan wasn’t in any shape to explain. He dialed a cab and piled his stuff inside, sending another text to Phil before putting his jacket hood up and popping an earbud in for the car ride. 

**Dan (9:20 pm)**  
coming over for some laundry if thats ok  
not sure about being at the dorm rn  
sorry

Dan arrived after what felt like just 10 minutes; he had drifted off into a bumpy nap in the back of the cab, emotionally drained. A part of him knew that Phil would want to see him, as they literally Skyped every night, and were always talking about when they could see each other next. The self conscious, self doubting part of him, though, shouted the opposite. _ You’re so annoying and needy and clingy, going to Phil’s flat when he’s not even home? You’re not even dating. He doesn’t have time for all of your meltdowns. Wasted money on that cab. _ He silently cursed the inner voice as he hauled his bags out of the car and into Phil’s building. 

He reached Phil’s door, a sense of comfort and familiarity already washing over him. A little smile poked its way onto the corner of his mouth thinking of staying at Phil’s, getting to fall asleep in his arms, forgetting about everything bad happening around him and in his head. He fumbled around in his hoodie pocket for his phone to look up the door code in his notes. 7573.  
He punched it into the buttons on the doorknob, but instead of opening, the keypad flashed red. His brows furrowed as he pressed the buttons again, slowly this time, just to see red again. _Have I been locked out on purpose? Maybe Phil’s had enough of me. _ Dan’s brain was deeply stuck in a dangerous pattern of assuming the worst, 24/7, and it took a toll on him. He sunk down the wall, sitting on the floor in the building’s hallway, nervously chewing again on his already jacked up fingernails. 

**Dan (10:55 pm)**  
your door is being mean  
seriously though where are you 0.0

Distracting himself, Dan pulled up a game on his phone to occupy the time; he didn’t plan on leaving. Dan thought he would rather sleep on the hallway floor than go back to that dorm room, dark and full of bad memories and thoughts just waiting to crawl into his head as soon as he got in bed.

A few minutes later, he heard a high-pitched yelp, jolting him from his near-slumber, sat up against the wall.

“...Dan? What… what’re you doing on the floor?” Phil stood in front of Dan, wearing his usual black skinny jeans paired with a purple and black button down that Dan always complimented. In lieu of a reply, Dan just hopped up to his feet, closing the gap between him and Phil in a tight hug. They stood there, arms around each other, in the middle of the hallway as Phil faintly rubbed little circles on Dan’s back.

“Missed you,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s shoulder.

“I missed you too,” he said, pulling away just enough to look Dan in the eyes. “But what are you doing….in the hallway of my apartment building?” He said it with a little chuckle in his voice, but his eyes showed genuine concern for Dan. He knew a cab that far was expensive, and they always had thoroughly planned before making a date or sleepover.

“You really didn’t get any of my texts?” Dan was in disbelief, but there was no malice in his voice. Phil dropped his hands from their place on Dan’s arms, gesturing towards his apartment door. 

“Phone’s in there,” he said defeatedly. “I left it at home on accident, an old school mate visiting town invited me out for some drinks, and I just stopped by now to grab it.” Phil gently moved past Dan to reach the door, punching in a code that was definitely not the one he gave Dan. “And my door,” he sighed. “They had to change the locks after someone on this floor got broken into.” Phil pushed the door open with his leg, grabbing Dan’s laundry and duffel bag to toss inside. 

“What the fuck,” Dan stared at the door. “That’s…. That all sounds stressful.”

Phil motioned for him to come inside the apartment. 

“Yeah, it’s okay now, though. And, even better that you’re here.” Phil smiled at Dan, shut the door behind him, flipped on a lamp and pulled him in for another hug. Dan squeezed Phil as if he’d never get to hug him again, closing his eyes and sighing into the crook of the slightly taller boy’s neck. Despite being out all night, the comforting scent of him, of just Phil, was always there, soothing and embracing Dan’s senses. “Are you okay though, Dan?”

Phil tried to pull away from the hug so he could look at Dan as they talked, but the younger refused, holding tightly to Phil’s back and keeping his face squished into his shirt. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbled, breath hot on Phil’s neck. Phil planted a gentle kiss on the side of Dan’s fringe closest to his lips. “Thoughts got dangerous.”

That was all Dan had to say for Phil to know that this was more than just an ‘I miss you’ type of visit. He suspected something was up upon finding Dan half asleep in the hallway of his building, of course, but to hear him say that he wasn’t okay made it more serious and real. 

“So you… came here?” Phil felt Dan nod, his now wavy hair brushing against Phil’s neck.

“Makes me feel safe.” Dan finally pulled away, making eye contact with Phil, who held Dan’s hands gently and kissed them both. He put both of his hands on either side of Dan’s head, kissing the top of his hair, then his forehead. Dan smiled a little, but a sad, defeated look remained in his dark eyes. “If it’s too much for you right now I can go home-” Dan started, but was cut off by Phil.

“No, it’s not,” he shook his head, looking at Dan with sincerity. “You’re never, ever too much for me, Dan. And you’re always welcome here.” Dan smiled as Phil leaned in to press their lips together, hands still in Dan’s hair. They hadn’t shared many kisses yet, as their budding relationship was still so new and fresh; each time they did, though, it was a liiittle bit longer, a bit deeper and more loving than the last. As Phil kissed Dan’s pink, slightly chapped lips, he took the boy’s hand in his and squeezed it. Dan flinched, pulling out of the kiss a little. 

“You ok?” Phil pulled their held hands up to eye level, noticing Dan’s chipped, bitten nails and dried blood stuck around the skin. “Oh, oh, babe,” he said, tone dropping. He ran his own finger lightly over Dan’s, who had a slight look of shame across his face.

“I painted them earlier,” Dan said quietly. He suddenly sounded like he was about to cry, a lump forming already in his throat. “I painted them and. I went to the study group that we talked about.” Phil followed along attentively, nodding, absentmindedly rubbing Dan’s palms with his thumbs.

“The other guys there… Phil, I’m different from them. They think I’m girly and stupid and I know it, and they were talking about me and I saw them laugh. And I know it sounds silly and childish to care about that but…” Dan’s voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes. He stared towards the ground, hands still in Phil’s.

“It’s not silly at all,” Phil reassured, trying to look at Dan’s cloudy eyes that wouldn’t meet his. 

“It made me feel like I did all through school.” His voice was nearly a whisper. Phil pulled him into another embrace, placing soft kisses atop his head.

“And you made it through school,” Phil reminded him, rubbing his hand in circles on Dan’s back. “And I’m proud of you, Dan. You made it through then, and you’re gonna make it through this time too. Despite everything that’s happened, you still painted your nails. Because you wanted to. And I’m so, so proud of you.” Dan let out a long sigh, breath catching in his throat as he recovered from crying. Phil backed up to look at Dan, wiping his warm, damp cheeks off with his thumbs and following them with two kisses. 

“How can you be proud of me if I gave up? I took the polish off,” Dan asked quietly, holding up his hands. One finger had started bleeding again. 

“I’m always going to be proud of you. No matter what.” Phil took Dan’s other hand in his, leading him down the narrow hall of his apartment to the bathroom. “Sit”, he instructed Dan, who hopped up onto the countertop. In a comfortable silence, Phil wet a washcloth with warm water and soap, washing the soft skin of Dan’s hands in the sink. He dug around in the under the sink cabinet for a minute, setting up onto the counter a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and bandaids. He cleaned Dan’s fingernail beds off with the peroxide and a q-tip as gently as possible, rubbing the top of his hand softly when Dan winced. 

“Thank you,” Dan said, looking very tired and small as he sat on top of the sink with his hand in Phil’s, fringe all wavy and cheeks stained pink. 

“You don’t have to thank me, I just care about you a lot,” Phil smiled warmly up at Dan as he took some bandaids out of the box. He unwrapped one to reveal a hot pink bandage featuring some Sanrio characters. Dan held out his hand so Phil could wrap the bandaid around the finger that hurt most. 

“Is that Cinnamoroll on my bandaid? Very Phil.” Dan let out a little laugh, inspecting his newly wrapped finger.

“Yes, I chose the best for you,” Phil said, putting the supplies back under the sink cabinet. “You look so tired, Dan.” He poked a finger at Dan’s cheek.

“You do too,” he replied. “Weren’t you supposed to go back out with your friend or something?”

“Oh, crap,” Phil had completely forgotten. He jogged into his bedroom, Dan in tow, to find his phone. Besides 6 missed texts and a call from Dan, he had a couple messages from his friend that spanned the past hour. 

“If you wanna go meet him, I don’t mind,” Dan said, rummaging through his duffel bag for pajamas. 

“Dan.” Phil spoke firmly, waiting for Dan to look up at him. “You really think I’d leave you here?”

“I don’t wanna ruin your fun plans,” Dan said quietly, a sleepy fog in his voice. Phil unlocked his phone, typed out a hurried excuse text, and tossed his phone onto the bed. He walked towards Dan, placing his hands atop the boy’s shoulders. 

“Now my only plans are to cuddle you,” said Phil, voice deep yet comforting. He kissed Dan’s lips, feeling him smile and try to find Phil’s hands. “Put on your-” Phil spoke in broken words inbetween little kisses. “- Pajamas, and we-” … “- Can cuddle.” 

“Okaaay,” Dan pulled away, smiling and closing his eyes so he looked extra squishy. He pulled out a pair of flannel pj pants from his bag, then turned back to Phil. “Can I borrow a tshirt?”

“You forgot yours?” Phil peered into Dan’s bag, seeing several pairs of pants and shirts.

“Maybe I just like yours better,” Dan pouted. Phil chuckled and opened his dresser drawer, pulling out a baggy Pokemon shirt and tossing it to Dan. He got himself out some plaid fuzzy pants and a soft t-shirt, and when he stood up, he saw Dan standing there in just his pajama pants, not having put on Phil’s shirt yet. Phil stared at Dan in awe, admiring his body until Dan caught his eye and blushed. They stared at each other for a few moments until Dan cracked a smile. 

“What?” He covered his chest with his arms.

“You’re just beautiful,” Phil said, not moving. “I just realized I’ve only seen you shirtless on Skype. And not in person.”

“Well take what you can get, ‘cause I’m freezing,” Dan teased as he pulled Phil’s t-shirt on over his head. The shirt was old and baggy, leaving his collarbones exposed. Phil laughed, changing into his own pajamas before pulling back the duvet to let Dan climb in first. Dan got in bed, immediately pulling the covers up to his face. “Come make me warm,” he said, patting the pillow for Phil to join. Phil climbed in beside him, intertwining their fuzzy pants-covered legs and wrapping his arm around Dan’s side. Dan scooted in closer till their noses were almost touching, leaving a peck on Phil’s lips before he turned out the bedside lamp. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Dan mumbled quietly, breath warm against Phil’s lips and chin.

“Of course, baby.” Phil rubbed his hand around on Dan’s back to warm him up. 

“I like it when you call me that,” Dan said, kissing Phil’s lips lightly again. Phil moved his hand from Dan’s back into his hair, planting kisses on his forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, and finally his lips. Dan closed his eyes and smiled, cheeks growing warm. 

“Let me hold you,” Phil said, prompting Dan to turn over, snuggling his back into Phil’s torso. Phil wrapped his arm around Dan, finding his hand and loosely holding onto his fingers. It was quiet for a few minutes, just the rhythmic clanking of the ceiling fan above to keep them company, when Phil spoke again.

“Are you asleep?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“Almost,” Dan whispered, unmoved.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?”

Dan thought for a moment. “Nope.”

“How about if you stay here awhile, and we’ll run to the shop and pick out a new nail polish color. And I’ll paint them for you. If you want, of course,” Phil whispered, his voice wavering a bit. 

“I’d like that a lot,” Dan answered, squeezing Phil’s warm hand in his. “I’d really like that.”

Although it was dark, and they were both nearly asleep, Phil thought he could feel that Dan was smiling.


End file.
